Weave Our Hearts Together
by Jeanie205
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke are finally reunited, and for a few glorious moments, she seems s ecstatic to see him as he is to see her. But that changes quickly, and it soon looks like she's going out of her way to avoid him. So when they embark on an important mission together, Bellamy hopes that this will be his chance to to see if he and Clarke can capture their special connection.


He'd spent the first twenty-fours hours just learning how to paddle the damn thing. There was an art to it, a particular technique, and it was nowhere near as easy as it looked. It was nothing he'd been able to acquire on the Ark, or even on his first trip to the ground. So now he'd had to pick it up on the fly.

Fortunately, Bellamy Blake was a natural athlete with a good sense of balance.

It was taking Clarke a bit longer to get the hang of it, but then he knew she didn't have anywhere near his upper-body strength. She was clever, and persistent, but sometimes it was simply muscle mass that carried the day. This was one of those times.

Of course, if Clarke had had her way, he wouldn't have been there at all.

XXXXXXXXXX

In the beginning, Clarke hadn't even wanted them to build the canoe, but she'd eventually understood it couldn't be avoided. Not if they wanted to have the best chance of saving everyone.

She'd found the plant a few years back, while she and Madi were leisurely exploring along the edges of the green space. Recalled it's importance from long ago Earth Skills classes. They'd gathered it, dried it, and carefully stored it against the day when they might require its curative properties. Which had come only a few months later, after an unknown virus struck them both without warning. Clarke had made an infusion of the dried leaves and they'd drunk it like a tea.

It had worked almost immediately.

But when the illness came this time, she'd had only a little left, nowhere near enough to treat all the former bunker dwellers who had been stricken one after another soon after they were freed from their underground prison.

Clarke had used what little was left on her mother and a few of the others who had been taken ill early on. But now they desperately needed to resupply.

"I know where there's more," she told Abby, during a quick meeting to assess the situation. "But it's quite a ways north of here over some very rough terrain. Along the river. It'll take me a couple of weeks to get there and back."

"We don't have a couple of weeks," Abby said, looking worried. "So far no one has died but viruses are tricky. We don't know who might be especially susceptible. What we _do_ know is that your plant works."

"What about going by water?" Bellamy asked from across the table. "Up the river. That must be faster than overland."

Clarke shrugged, barely looking at him. Bellamy noted that these days she was always just barely looking at him.

"I only have a small raft, and it's too flimsy for that river."

"Wait!" Raven said, clicking away at the portable computer she never went anywhere without. Within seconds, she'd found what she was looking for and twisted the screen around for the others to see.

"What's that?" Kane asked tiredly, only just recovered from his own bout of illness. Octavia Blake was the nominal leader of the bunker survivors but she'd been stricken earlier that day. Kane and the Trikru heda Indra were filling in for her.

"It's a dugout canoe, and I think we can build one in a few hours. Pretty sure I've seen a tree we can use."

"You want to cut down one of my...of _our_...trees?" Clarke looked unhappy. "This is the only remaining viable forest anywhere around, Raven. We can't just start cutting it all down!"

"Clarke," Bellamy said reasonably. "I understand. I do. But we need to get that medicine quickly or there's a good chance some people are gonna die. And we don't want to cut down the whole damn forest. Just one tree."

Clarke nodded, but he could see how torn she was. For years, he knew the forest had protected her and Madi. It had sheltered her sources of food and water. Without another human to rely on, the forest had probably felt like their only friend.

"You're right, of course," she said quickly. "And...that could work. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to identify the location of the plant bed from the shoreline."

She turned to Raven. "Do you know if these canoes are tricky to, uh, navigate? From the picture, it looks fairly easy, but..."

"Why don't you let me figure out that part," Bellamy said, "since I'll be going with you."

"What? No!" Clarke's head whipped around and for once she was looking at him head-on. "That's not necessary!" she insisted, while the color seemed to leach from her face.

"Clarke, you know damn well you can't propel that thing miles upriver by yourself. And besides," Bellamy gritted his teeth because he knew she wouldn't like his next statement, "I'm just not letting you do this on your own."

"I've been doing things on my on for six years, Bellamy," she reminded him tersely, her eyes shifting away again.

Bellamy felt his frustration rise. This was what it had been like from almost the first moment he'd laid eyes on her again. He hated it. Couldn't understand it. But he knew that this setting, this... moment, was not the time to hash out whatever the hell was broken in their personal connection.

"Be realistic, Clarke. It's going to take two people to paddle that canoe up the river as quickly as possible..."

"Then I'll bring someone else. Madi..." she interrupted him, only to be interrupted in turn by her mother.

And Abby was wasting no time on diplomacy

"Clarke, I have no idea why you're being so stubborn about this. I understand you have to go yourself because you know where the plant grows. But that you would suggest bringing a child with you rather than Bellamy? With his strength and...and... _experience_? I don't know what you're thinking."

Abby turned to Raven.

"Pick out your tree and we'll have some of the men cut it down. Organize your tools and whatever else you need to build this canoe."

Abby sighed, looking around at all of them gathered there.

"This a medical emergency and I'm pulling rank. Clarke," she turned towards her daughter, "Bellamy's going with you. You need his help and you know it. I'll leave it to you to explain the situation to Madi, but she's made friends here, and I'm pretty sure she'll be fine without you for a few days. And you know," she added, her voice softening, "that I'll look after her myself."

"Mom..." Clarke began to sputter, as though she would offer further objection.

Abby frowned, shaking her head. "This discussion is over, and frankly, I'm not sure why we even had to have it. Because _I_ know very well that you know I'm right."

But Bellamy knew why Clarke had objected. It was because she didn't want to spend all that time alone with him. What he didn't understand was _why_.

XXXXXXXXXX

They spent their first day on the river in near silence, which added an extra level of difficulty to their efforts to get some synchronization into their paddling.

The problem wasn't just that it was a new activity, calling for an unfamiliar skillset. There was also the difference in their levels of strength. In the length of their reach. In their general ability to perform physical tasks. There was even the disparity in their dominant sides.

And of course there was also that new unnamed something - that _whatever the hell it was_ \- that seemed to be interfering with their ability to be in harmony over just about anything at all.

But they worked at it, both of them. Adjusted for the differences in physicality and strength. Learned each others' tempo and cadence. When, late on the first day, they managed to snake around a tricky bend in the river without much of a problem, and Clarke turned to grin at him in satisfaction, for just an moment Bellamy felt more in tune with the world than he had in weeks.

He grinned back, and elation surged through him.

But it didn't last long.

In an instant, Clarke must have recalled who it was she was smiling at, because she quickly turned her back on him. And then the tempo of her paddling increased abruptly, throwing them off once more.

"Hey, slow down," he shouted from behind her. "We're out of sync again."

He watched as her shoulders first tightened and then slumped, but her paddling slowed and soon they were back in rhythm.

"Yeah, sorry," she threw back, barely turning her head.

Bellamy sighed, wondering for the hundredth time what it was that had come between them, and how the hell he could fix it.

At first he'd thought it was just...time. The time they'd been apart. Or maybe the time it would take them to...relearn each other.

Not that he'd felt that way himself. Hell, he'd been so happy to see her, to know that she was alive and well, and...and _here_ , that nothing could have dimmed his joy.

He didn't give a fuck if it was six minutes or six years, she was still his Clarke, and by some miracle he'd gotten her back.

He'd learned about it from the others. That she'd survived. And just at first, when they'd told him, he hadn't been able to take it in. But when he'd finally seen her face, it felt like a weight had lifted off him. Bellamy had taken his first truly happy breath in six years.

And right then, right at that moment, he would have sworn she felt exactly the same.

He'd wrapped her in his arms and she'd hugged him fiercely, arms tight around his waist, like she never wanted to let go. He could feels the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and when he finally pulled back, he saw her face was wet, too.

But before they could so much as exchange a word, the others had all crowded around. His space family, thrilled to see Clarke alive and well. Harper and Monty and Raven surrounding her with hugs. And then the others came, happy to see her alive, too, of course, but even more so because they knew what she meant to him. To Bellamy.

When Clarke had looked over Raven's shoulder, catching his eye as Echo hugged him, he understood she might have found the scene just a little surreal. Hell, he and Echo had tried to kill each other so many times his first time down on the planet that sometimes Bellamy could hardly believe they'd actually worked through all that shit and managed to find common ground.

But it had been just the seven of them - _for six fucking years_ \- and some of those days had been hellishly difficult. And if they hadn't bonded - if they hadn't figured out a way to become their own little family - he thinks they would have all gone crazy.

So they all knew pretty much everything about each other. Including how Bellamy had felt about Clarke Griffin. And how deeply he had mourned her.

They all knew him so well, in fact, that when Echo gave him a brief hug, she really didn't need to whisper into his ear about how happy she was for him. But she did anyway.

"I know the sadness will leave your eyes now, Bellamy. Now that she is returned to you. _Yu gaf em."_

And Echo was right. He did need Clarke. He'd managed to survive the last six years. He'd endured them. Even - perhaps - made peace with them. But something had always been missing.

But no longer. He wasn't sure about his eyes, but he knew there was no longer any room for sadness in his heart, because it was filled to the brim with something else entirely.

Because Clarke had been returned to him.

 _Except, as it turned out, she hadn't_.

By the time he'd turned away from Echo, Clarke was gone and no one seemed to know exactly where. When she showed up again, with Madi in tow, there had been no opportunity for any kind of private talk.

And somehow, after that, other much more important things always seemed to take precedence over finding the right moment for a one-on-one conversation with Clarke.

First up? How to deal with occupants of the Eligius. Then there'd been the problem of freeing the bunker dwellers from their six-year prison. And they'd scarcely managed to dig them out when the virus had struck, forcing them all to shift their energies to caring for the sick. To trying to contain the disease.

By then he'd finally figured out that it didn't make the slightest bit of difference what else was happening, or how busy they all were. For weeks, he'd watched from afar as Clarke integrated herself back into the lives of his space family. He saw her laughing with Raven, sharing a joke with Monty. He even heard her trying out her Trigedasleng on Emori and Echo, befriending the two grounders as she had others in the past.

But with Bellamy himself it was always the same. Each time he approached her, she was busy. Or tired. Or she needed to be somewhere else. Somewhere that Bellamy wasn't.

After a while, he was forced to acknowledge that whatever was wrong had nothing to do with their time apart. Or with relearning each other. Whatever problem Clarke had began and ended with Bellamy.

XXXXXXXXXX

Despite their inexperience, Bellamy thought he and Clarke made good progress that first day. Their only mishap had been a near-collision with a log that had fallen and become submerged in the river. Bellamy, from his greater height, had seen it just in time to alert Clarke, and they paddled quickly to the left for several yards, eventually clearing the log by only inches. Bellamy took note of the location, promising himself to take special care at that spot on the return trip.

When the sun began to set, they paddled to the shore, pulling the canoe halfway up the banking and tying it to a sturdy tree limb. If Bellamy had had some idea that the trip might break down Clarke's wall of reserve, he soon he found he was mistaken. After a brief meal, they both fell into an exhausted sleep - under blankets placed several feet apart - knowing that the next day they'd have to do it all over again.

It was mid-afternoon on the second day when Clarke gave a sudden shout.

"I remember that rock formation," she said, turning her head and gesturing wildly at an outcropping of several huge boulders a few yards in from the riverbank. "We need to pull over right now."

It was less than a quarter-mile inland that they found them. Broad green leaves, small purple flowers, growing close to the ground. Of course they looked nothing like the dried and pulverized version he'd seen, and Bellamy knew that if he'd tried to make the trip without Clarke he'd never have found them at all.

They filled two large cloth satchels with as many plants as they could carry before finding shelter inside a copse of large oaks. Bellamy wasn't quite as exhausted as he'd been the previous night, and after they'd finished their quick meal he briefly considered trying to initiate a conversation with Clarke. Something more meaningful than the six-word sentences that had so far passed as communication.

" _Hand me that satchel."_

" _This looks like a good place to camp."_

" _Do you want more dried meat?"_

" _I'll fill the canteens."_

And finally, from Clarke, "Long day tomorrow. Think I'll turn in now."

Bellamy sighed. And decided that he was too tired after all to try knocking down the bricks in the wall around Clarke that had, over the past two days, seemed to have grown even thicker and more impenetrable.

XXXXXXXXXX

They'd been lucky with the weather so far, but by the next morning dark clouds had rolled in. As they packed up their gear, the sky became ever more threatening, and Bellamy finally voiced his concerns.

"I'm not sure we should go out on the river today, Clarke. Or at least let's wait and see if this storm passes. The weather may be better later."

"We can't wait, Bellamy. They needed these plants yesterday."

"I know that. But it won't do them any good if we get caught in this storm and lose everything we've gathered!" _Why the hell was she always so stubborn?_

"That won't happen." He could hear the steely determination in her voice. Determination that was fueled, he was convinced, as much by her desire to get away from him as it was to help the sick. "I've been out in bad storms lots of times and made it through just fine."

"On the river? Have you been out on this river during a storm? We have no idea what it will be like when it's swollen with rain. Be reasonable, Clarke. We need to be safe."

Her face went carefully bank and for an instant Bellamy thought she might listen to him. But then he saw her back go rigid and he knew he might just as well have saved his breath.

She untied the canoe from the tree limb where he'd anchored it the night before and threw the satchels inside.

"I'm leaving now, Bellamy," she said, climbing into the canoe. "If you don't want to face a five or six-day walk, I suggest you get in the canoe."

Bellamy considered. He knew he could easily overpower her. Grab the canoe. Pull it so high up the bank she'd have little chance of getting it back in the water on her own. Besides which, he was pretty damn sure her threat to abandon him was nothing more than a bluff.

But he did none of these things.

If Clarke was so desperate to rid herself of his company he simply couldn't bring himself to thwart her.

"Okay," he said, tossing in his pack and climbing in after it. "Let's take a chance."

As the morning wore on, the sky grew darker, but still the rain held off. And when he finally did begin to feel the wet on his face and hair, it came in the form of a fine mist. Bellamy thought they might escape unscathed after all.

They were making decent time, even in the gentle rain, and had just moved past their campsite from two nights ago when suddenly the heavens opened up, and the promised deluge, the one he'd had been fearing ever since those first gray clouds appeared, was unleashed in full force. Where only minutes ago the river had been calm and the rain friendly, the water now poured down upon them in sheets, and the river was soon tumbling furiously between its banks.

In seconds, Bellamy was soaking wet. As a precaution, he grabbed the pack that was sitting at his feet and flung it over one shoulder, shifting the paddle in his hands until the pack was secure against his back.

"Can you get your pack over your shoulder safely?" He had to shout the question to Clarke, even though she was sitting only a few feet in front of him. "Put the paddle down first so you don't lose it. I can paddle for both of us for a minute."

"Yeah, I think I can do it," she called back, her voice nearly drowned out by the twin roaring of the rain and the river.

She dropped the paddle to her feet, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her sling the pack across her shoulders without a problem. She'd picked up the paddle again, and turned briefly to nod at him, when he felt it.

A heavy thud.

And then the canoe lurched suddenly, tilting dangerously. Clarke had just reached behind her, half-crouching, to grab at the satchels full of life-saving plants, when the boat was jolted again, harder this time.

Bellamy watched in horror as Clarke tumbled sideways into the river.

He was over the side in a flash. The river wasn't deep, but it was above his waist, and therefore chest-high on Clarke. He saw her stumble repeatedly as she tried to right herself, still clutching the damn satchels to her chest.

"Just drop them, Clarke!" he shouted, pitching his voice to be heard above the thunder of the rushing water. But she shook her head stubbornly, once again losing her balance and sliding under.

He felt like he was moving through molasses, like he would never reach her, and panic began to seep into his bones. Then suddenly he was there, pulling her out of the water, her hands still wound tightly around the plant-filled sacks as she gasped for air.

"I've got you!" he cried, hefting her off her feet, while he twisted his head this way and that, his eyes searched desperately for the quickest path to the riverbank. Having made his choice, he stepped carefully along the riverbed, the waters made murky by the torrential rains effectively obscuring what lay around and beneath him.

Several tense minutes later, he was dragging Clarke onto the banking.

"Don't move!" he shouted into her ear, slipping off his pack and then sliding carefully back down the muddy bank toward the river. Praying all the while that he'd pulled her high enough that she wouldn't tumble back into the water.

"Where're you going?" she yelled, nearly breathless.

"To find the boat," he called over his shoulder as he stepped back into the chilly river.

Bellamy knew he had to try even though he feared that it was hopeless. That by now the canoe had been carried miles away by the fast-moving current. But as he scanned the murky river, littered now with the detritus that had been swept into it by the storm, he suddenly spotted the canoe's bulky form immobilized not a hundred feet downstream

He reached it within minutes, and when he peered into the water, it wasn't hard to figure out exactly what had happened.

"Fuck!" _How could he have been stupid enough to forget about the submerged log that they'd had to carefully maneuver around only two days ago?_

With the torrential rain and Clarke's compulsion to get home, he'd just let himself lose focus. And they'd plowed right into the damn thing. Ironically, it was that same log that now held the canoe fast. That had prevented it from disappearing downstream forever.

He quickly used his knife to slice through the hopelessly tangled rope, and then dragged the canoe to the edge of the river, fastening what was left of the rope to a low-lying tree limb. Bellamy hoped he'd made it secure enough, but he was beginning to shiver now and he knew he was nearing the end of his strength.

When he reached the spot where he'd left Clarke, and found her gone, he felt a momentary panic, until he realized that both packs and the satchels were also missing.

"Bellamy! Up here!"

The rain had slackened a bit, and he could see her beckoning to him from the top of the bank. He dragged himself up and staggered to his feet, then followed her along the edge of the ridge until she stopped abruptly and stepped into what seemed to be a small fissure in the side of the low hill.

"I wouldn't even call it a cave," she said, watching as he looked around. "It's more like a largish alcove. But the opening is small and the rocks provide some shelter. Anyway, it's big enough to be dry."

"How did you know this was here?" he asked, sinking down gratefully, thankful to be out of the rain at last.

She shrugged. "I didn't. But these hills often have areas like this that can provide a little temporary shelter."

And Bellamy was once again reminded that Clarke Griffin was a woman who had survived for more than six years on her own, all while having a small child to protect. And that the forest was her friend.

He lay back, utterly exhausted, and felt his eyes begin to close.

"Oh, no, you don't," she said quickly. "I'm not letting you fall asleep in those wet clothes. Get that stuff off. I'll get the blankets from our packs."

He fought the urge to sleep in part because he knew she was right, that sleeping in his wet clothes would be foolhardy. But mostly because he was sure she'd just pester him until he complied. Or at least...the old Clarke would have. The one who gave a damn about him. The one who didn't try to pretend he didn't exist.

He pulled off his jacket and shirt, using whatever dry spots he could find on the shirt to towel off his hair. His boots and pants followed, and then Clarke was tossing him a blanket from the other side of the small space. It wasn't exactly bone dry, but neither was it sopping wet.

As he wrapped it around himself gratefully, he looked up, startled to see that Clarke had turned her back and was shedding her own wet clothing. He inhaled sharply, chiding himself for his stupidity. Of course she would be doing the same, but he'd simply been unprepared for his reaction to the expanse of smooth white skin she was revealing.

Clarke was beautiful. That was no secret. And he'd always been attracted to her. That was probably not a secret either. But he'd also tried very hard not to think about her like...this. Half-clothed, her soft skin glistening in the semi-darkness.

Bellamy averted his eyes, appalled by the involuntary reaction of his body Certain that if she was trying to avoid his company, the last thing she'd want to know about was how fucking turned on he was by even the brief glimpses he'd had of her shapely curves.

There was very little room in their rocky alcove, so when she'd wrapped her own blanket around her and sat down, there were only a few inches between them. Bellamy cleared his throat and shifted as much as he was able, but the rock walls allowed for very little maneuvering.

"Have you, uh, got enough room?" Even as the words came out of his mouth he knew it was an absurd question. There was a certain amount of space available and even if she felt he was too close to her there was fuck all he could do about it.

To his utter surprise, she peered at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled that little half-smile of hers. The one that told him he was an idiot.

"I see that six years in space hasn't improved your jokes," she said drily.

Bellamy's breath hitched at the warm familiarity of it. He tried to think of a response that would keep that door open without scaring her off. But before his brain could find the right words, Clarke shifted next to him, fidgeting, pulling the edges of her blanket together, and finally heaving an enormous sigh.

"I'm sorry," she said, her tone as apologetic as he'd ever heard it.

"Um...sorry about...?"

"This is all my fault. "

" _Your_ fault? How the hell is it _your_ fault? The rain was coming down so damn hard I missed that huge log we barely squeaked by the other day. So if it's anyone's fault..."

"No!" She turned to him fully now, shaking her head. "We should never have been out on the river at all, but I stupidly insisted. I just..." her eyes shifted away again, "I was in a hurry to get back with the plants. But, still, we could have waited..."

Bellamy huffed a small laugh, and shook his head. "Look, Clarke. We've still got the plants. And the canoe. Neither of us is hurt. And as soon as the weather improves, we'll be on our way again. So we lucked out. No harm done."

Bellamy sighed. He knew damn well he should leave it at that but he just fucking couldn't.

"But if you're going to start blaming yourself, and apologizing for things that aren't really your fault, you might just as well admit to the real reason for your stubbornness this morning. I know you wanted to get the plants back to Abby. So did I. But that's not why you insisted we leave today. Nope, it was because you just couldn't stomach spending even one extra day in my company."

There it was. Out in the open. He saw Clarke flinch a little, but she said nothing.

"I don't hear you denying it," he added quietly, "but then I didn't think you'd bother lying to my face. But the thing is, Clarke — what I've been trying to figure out for all these weeks — is what the hell it is I've done to make you treat me like the fucking plague."

For several long moments, the reverberation of the steady downpour against the enormous rocks overhead was the only sound that could be heard in their small alcove. Bellamy thought the rain must have picked up again, and he suddenly felt like he could barely breathe in the heavy, damp air.

Beside him, scarcely two inches away, Clarke was utterly silent.

He'd closed his eyes in defeat, kicking himself for finding the one way to make a bad situation even worse, when she suddenly took a breath so sharp it was very nearly a gasp.

"No," she said, her voice faint, "that's not it. You haven't done...anything."

He waited a moment to see if she'd continue, but when she didn't he knew he couldn't just let that statement lie.

"Then what is it, Clarke? I'd have bet my life that you were happy to see me that first day, but ever since then..."

She jerked towards him, her voice sharp.

"Are you kidding? Of course I was happy to see you! I'd been sending you messages every damn day for more than six years. And even though I now know you never got them, I still thought about you every single day. So... _happy to see you_ doesn't even begin to cover it."

 _He_ knew _he'd been right about that moment. So then... what the hell had happened?_

"But then I realized..." her voice began to rasp like she was having trouble getting the words out "...you have all these _other_ people now, the ones you spent six years with. They're your family now. And I'm...not."

Bellamy could hardly believe what he was hearing. When he spoke, his voice was a little rougher than he'd intended.

"Do you have any idea how I felt when we had to leave you behind, Clarke? _You_ were the one I wanted up there with me. All those other people could never be...as much to me as you are."

They stared at each other in silence for several long seconds, until finally he shook his head and heaved a sigh, unwilling to back off now.

"But none of that matters now anyway. You say you wanted me back and now I'm here. So I'm still asking: why've you been avoiding me?"

Clarke ducked her head and balled her fists, and in the faint grayish light that filtered in through the narrow opening, he could swear he saw her flush.

"Okay," she said, just barely looking at him. "I guess I owe you that much, no matter what you might... think of me. The truth is," her eyes fluttered closed briefly, and she took a deep breath, as though gathering herself. "The truth is that when I was near you, I found myself wanting to... touch you. All that time we were apart... I kept thinking about everything we were to each other and... everything we never had the chance to be. And then you didn't come back at first, and I thought maybe you never would. So now...I just..."

Bellamy gaped at her. When he'd heard as much as he could stand, he interrupted impatiently.

"Let me get this straight. You've been avoiding me because you keep wanting... to touch me?"

Clarke gave a quick nod, eyes downcast, clearly flustered.

He shook his head in disbelief.

"So then... _touch_ me. Why would you ever think I wouldn't want your touch? That I wouldn't _welcome_ your touch?"

Clarke's head snapped up and she blinked in surprise, but her hands remained twisted together her lap.

Bellamy dropped his blanket to his waist, grabbed one of her hands and brushed her fingers across his chest. He felt like he'd been jolted by a live wire, and it was all he could do not to moan.

Then he moved her hand slightly, until it lay against his heart.

"Can you feel that?" he murmured. "My heart's beating so damn fast, just because you're touching me."

She gazed at him in shock.

"You...you _want_ this?" she said, her voice still hesitant.

"More than anything! Jesus, Clarke! If you had regrets because you thought I might never come back, imagine how _I_ felt when I thought you were dead! I was so fucking pissed at myself because I'd wasted the few times when maybe we could have been together. Like that day in the chancellor's office after we made that stupid list. You clutched at my hand, and like an idiot, I just... walked away. I can't tell you how many times I wanted that moment back."

As he made his own confession, Clarke's face lit with a tentative smile, and when he finished speaking, she carefully reached out her other hand and began to stroke his jaw.

"This new hair on your face," she said shyly. "I've wanted to know what it felt like. It's...softer than I thought it would be."

Bellamy's breathing became shallow as sensation rocketed through him.

Clarke shifted then, closing most of the small gap between them and winding her arms around his neck. Her blanket slipped from her shoulders and Bellamy was suddenly aware that she was nearly on top of him, dressed only in her underthings.

He struggled to maintain his composure. "So then... is it okay if I touch you, too?"

The quality of her smile seemed to change before his eyes, becoming almost... sultry.

"I'm gonna feel pretty stupid if you don't."

It was all the invitation he needed. In a flash, Bellamy moved his hands to span either side of her waist, lifting her across his legs and into his arms. He wasn't sure who moved first, or furthest, or fastest, but in another instant his lips were on hers and he was kissing Clarke Griffin with all the pent-up longing that had been lodged in his heart for nearly seven years.

When her tongue slipped inside his mouth, Bellamy felt like his body was on fire. The kiss became wet and open and their bodies ground sinuously against one another. His hand scraped along her back and found the clasp of her bra.

"Can I take this off?" he asked, his voice already gravelly with desire.

She nodded against his cheek. "Oh, yeah," she answered, a little breathless.

Her breasts were as beautiful as the rest of her, round and full, and her nipples were already hard when he held their fullness in his hands and rubbed his thumbs across the rosy tips.

"Can I... put my mouth on them?" he asked.

"Dammit, Bellamy! Stop asking me questions. I'll let you know if there's something I don't like, but right now, yeah, please suck my tits!"

His mouth closed around her left nipple and they both groaned with how good it felt. Clarke dragged her fingers through his curls and pressed his head to her tightly as he continued to use his tongue and his lips and his teeth to pleasure her.

"So many times I dreamed of you touching me like this," she said throatily. "But I could never have imagined it would feel this wonderful."

"No?" he asked lazily, shifting to suck deeply on her right nipple, eliciting a series of deep moans from Clarke that had his cock fully hard in a matter of seconds.

"I want your mouth everywhere at once," she said, her voice laced with desire.

She stroked his cheek until he lifted his head, and then she was kissing and licking and sucking at his lips and his tongue. He wrapped her in his arms and the feeling of her full breasts against his naked chest was exquisite. They writhed against each other, hands and arms and lips caressing, searching desperately for maximum contact and maximum sensation.

Clarke pulled away finally, eyes half-lidded with desire, to ask breathily, "Are you hard?"

Bellamy huffed a strangled laugh. "What the fuck do you think?" he said, grabbing her hand and pulling it down between them to palm his cock through his shorts while he mouthed at her neck.

"Oh, fuck, you feel so big," she gasped, and Bellamy was disconcerted. He supposed he might have taken it as a compliment, but somehow he knew that Clarke hadn't been with many men.

"Don't worry," he tried to assure her. "We'll take it slow."

Clarke rested her forehead against his and smiled. "I don't want to take it slow," she said. "I'm so fucking turned on right now..."

Bellamy groaned, burying his face in her neck. "Are you sure this is what you want...?"

Then two fingers were pressed against his mouth before he could say another word. "I said, no more questions. Unless...if you don't want to..."

"That's never gonna happen, Clarke. You know how much I want you."

He moved his hand between her legs to cup her through her panties, and when she moaned in his ear he pulled the cloth aside to push a finger inside her.

 _Fuck! She was incredibly wet._

"That feels really good, Bellamy," she breathed. "But it's not what I want inside me."

"No?" he asked, teasing, as he stroked his finger back and forth inside her wetness and then brought it out to flick across her clit. "What do you want?"

"This," she said, pushing her hand inside his shorts and lightly squeezing his hard length in her palm.

Bellamy was so aroused that for a second he was afraid he might not be able to control himself.

"You want me to fuck you?" he asked against her throat. His breath was coming in short pants now, and he was just barely able to get the words out.

" _Yessss."_ Her answer came out as one long moan.

Clarke shifted her legs just enough to remove her last piece of clothing, while Bellamy pulled out his throbbing cock.

"There's not much room here so we're going to stay just like this," he murmured in her ear, as he pulled her over to straddle him.

Clarke wasted no time, reaching down to grab his cock and immediately sliding down on it until he was fully inside her.

They sat there for a moment, joined together but unmoving. Bellamy was so overcome with sensation, with lust and desire and a thousand other things he knew he'd need to sort out later, that he could hardly speak.

"Clarke!" he said, pulling her head down for a kiss, aching with just how much he wanted her.

And then she began to move, gliding up and down on him, altering the tempo and the direction of her movement, until she found the exact right rhythm to bring herself the greatest amount of pleasure. And somehow, magically, it was exactly right for him, too.

Their pace became faster and harder and more intense, until he was utterly lost in it. And all he could think about was that he was inside Clarke, all he could focus on was the exact point where they were joined together, and all that was important to him was how they were making each other feel.

Bellamy pulled her closer still so he could suck deeply on her tits as they fucked. In the dim recesses of his mind, he wondered if maybe that was what pushed her over, because he could suddenly feel that Clarke was coming hard.

"Oh, god! Oh, fuck! Bellamy!"

And as her orgasm seemed to overwhelm her, Bellamy clutched at her tightly and climaxed himself.

They were a heaving mess as they came down from that high, and their harsh breathing filled the tiny alcove. As soon as he'd dragged in enough air, he pulled her down to kiss her sweetly. And all at once they were grinning at each other like a pair of fools.

"We're both sweating like pigs, Bellamy. Where are the canteens? We need to hydrate."

Bellamy suddenly couldn't stop laughing.

He hugged her, brushed back her hair, kissed her lightly on the nose.

"The canteen's right here, my romantic Clarke," he teased, handing her the container. "I definitely don't want to look like a pig," he added, taking a swig of water himself when she was done.

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. "Sex can be very dehydrating," she said, all serious. "We have to be careful. I mean, I know it's not romantic..."

He stroked her cheek, wondering how in the hell he'd ever lived without her for six years.

"You're taking care of us, just like always," he said, his heart so full he could hardly contain everything he was feeling. "I wouldn't have you any other way. But sex also uses up calories. Why don't we see what we've got left for food and then try and get some rest?"

XXXXXXXXXX

They'd managed to find the one spot where they could both stretch out as long as they didn't mind being very close to each other, and that was no longer a concern. Fed, hydrated —blissful — they'd fallen into an exhausted sleep wrapped in each others' arms.

When Bellamy awoke slowly some time later, his eyes opened to a darkness relieved only by the glimmer of moonlight filtering in through the narrow opening in the rocks. By the time he was fully awake, he realized that he was also fully aroused.

He shifted his head, and there was just enough light for him to see that Clarke was also awake, that she'd pulled the blanket off them, and that her hand was gently stroking his cock.

"What are you doing, Clarke?" His voice was raspy with sleep or desire. Or maybe both.

"Oh, you're awake," she said softly. "Is this...is it all right that I'm doing this?"

"Is it okay that you've woken me up by playing with my cock until I'm hard?" he asked on a strangled gasp. "Yeah, I guess that's okay." He smiled down at her as she continued to stroke him.

"So...was there something you wanted?" He could feel his whole body beginning to respond.

Clarke looked up at him, and in the scant light he could just see the uncertainty in her eyes.

"Can I put my mouth on you?"

Bellamy almost choked. _That was his Clarke. Direct as ever._

"You want to... suck my cock?"

She nodded. "I've never done it before," she admitted hesitantly.

"Then, please, let me be your first." He was unable to keep the smirk off his face.

Never one to waste time, Clarke crouched next to him and took a tentative lick before engulfing him in her warm, wet mouth. She seemed to be good at it from the first stroke, understanding instinctively how to use her tongue and her lips to bring him the greatest pleasure. Soon, she had him thrashing from side to side, panting and moaning.

"Am I doing it right?" she asked, but he was pretty sure from her sly grin that she already knew the answer to that one.

"Hey, you know what," he said, his voice heavy with arousal, "why don't you shift yourself around a little. Move your feet up next to my face."

"Like this?" she asked, twisting around so that she was lying parallel to his body.

"Just exactly like that," he said, pulling her legs over his shoulder so that her cunt was only inches from his face.

She moaned when he blew a hot breath across her clit.

"Keep sucking my cock, Clarke," he whispered, before he plunged his tongue inside her.

There was no need to ask if she liked it. His passionate Clarke was writhing over him from the second he tongued her clit. They continued to pleasure each other until Bellamy knew that he would climax soon, and there was no way he was coming in her mouth. He lifted Clarke off him, spinning her around until he was lying on top of her.

She whined in protest. "Hey, I was enjoying that!"

"Yeah, I know, but I think you're gonna like this, too," he said, pulling her legs apart gently and burying himself inside her.

They'd made love only a few hours earlier, so Bellamy thought he ought to have a little control.

But this, after all, was Clarke.

He had despised her, admired her, loved her, and then fallen in love with her. He'd spent six years thinking she was dead. And now that she was by some miracle alive, here in his arms, and he was deep inside her, he found his desire for her was nearly overwhelming.

Fortunately, she was just as aroused, and when he bent to suck her tits and rub his finger lightly against her clit, she moaned and came, and he let himself come, too.

They didn't hydrate this time; in fact, they barely moved. He grabbed the blanket and covered them and they were both asleep within seconds.

XXXXXXXXXX

When Bellamy woke next, Clarke was sprawled across his body and bright ribbons of sunlight were streaming through the narrow opening into their rocky alcove. He tried to move without waking Clarke, but as soon as he lifted her leg, she came awake with a start.

"What are you doing?" she asked sleepily.

"It's stopped raining, so I thought maybe we should try to get out of here."

"Yeah, okay, but maybe we could wait just a bit," she said coyly, reaching between them to find his cock already half-hard.

"You are insatiable!" he laughed, but he couldn't even pretend to protest. He ran his hand lightly across her ass, admiring anew her sexy curves.

Clarke lifted her head to kiss him, smiling shyly.

"It's just that...when we get back," she shrugged lightly, "you know."

Bellamy tensed at the uncertain expression on her face.

"I _know_?," he asked, frowning. "What do I know? What about when we get back?"

"If...well...if we couldn't do this again, I'd...understand."

Bellamy frowned. "Yeah? Well, I sure as hell wouldn't. I can't believe you really think this was just some one-time thing for me. I don't want to just sleep with you, Clarke, I want to _be_ with you. Are you saying that...you don't feel the same?"

"No," she said quickly, "I _do_ feel the same. But it isn't...it's not just about me anymore, Bellamy. I have Madi now, too. And I thought...maybe...that would be too much for you to take on."

Bellamy relaxed, as both relief and affection surged through him. He reached out to brush his fingers gently through the flyaway strands of hair that always seem to surround her head like a halo.

"Yeah, well, it's not too much. And besides, I like Madi."

"Are you sure?" She asked, looking anxious. "She's not your responsibility."

Bellamy sighed. _It was hard for him to believe she still didn't get how he felt about her._

"I've waited so long to be with you, Clarke, I wouldn't care if you came with a dozen kids. Besides," he said, only telling her what she probably already knew, "I'm going to feel responsible for Madi whether you and I are actually together or not."

"True enough," Clarke said, laughing quietly. "But still, it will be...an adjustment for her. She's gotten used to having me all to herself."

"I think we can handle it. If we can beat praimfaya, I'm sure Madi and I can learn to deal with each other."

"Okay," she said, smiling that half-smile and lifting her shoulder in a tiny shrug. "I can't make myself argue with you anymore. Because this is what I want, too. More than anything."

"Good," he said, wrapping her up in his arms with a quiet sigh.

"But there's just this...one other thing," she added, pressing herself more tightly against him. Her voice changing, becoming just a tiny bit...sly. "Does this mean that since sex is still on the table for the future, we should definitely forgo it right now?"

"You know, I don't think it does mean that," he smirked, lying back and pulling her on top of him so she lay flush along the length of his body. "In fact, I think it means exactly the opposite."

Which led to a further delay in their departure.

But they didn't linger too long because they knew they needed to make it back that day. After a quick wash in the river (because really, they didn't want to return to camp smelling like they'd been having sex all night, even if that was exactly what they _had_ been doing), they dressed, grabbed their packs and the plants and headed downstream along the banking. Crossing their fingers the whole way that the canoe would still be where Bellamy had left it tied to that tree limb.

"Maybe we're in for some good luck for a change," he said, disbelieving, when they suddenly rounded a sharp bend to find that not only was the canoe still sitting along the riverbank but the paddles that he'd never given a thought to were lying in the bottom of the boat, exactly where they'd left them.

Bellamy knew they still had several hours of hard paddling ahead. But the sun was shining, they had bags stuffed with medicinal plants, and Clarke Griffin had just told him that what she wanted more than anything was to be with him. He thought maybe it was going to be a good day.

XXXXXXXXXX

With some hard paddling and a lot of determination, Bellamy and Clarke managed to make it back before nightfall. They were so focused on the mission that they had little time or energy for conversation en route, but Bellamy expected there'd be plenty of opportunity when they finally reached camp.

The reality was that Clarke was immediately whisked away by her mother to help with the plants, while Bellamy was surrounded by grateful friends and acquaintances. In the end, all they were able to exchange were longing looks from tired eyes.

He tried to wait up for her, but the trip had taken its toll and exhaustion eventually set in. When he woke the next morning to find that Clarke was finally getting some well-earned rest, there was no way in hell he was waking her up just because he desperately wanted to see her.

So it wasn't until later in the day that he caught sight of her near the mess hall. He'd opened his mouth to call out when he noticed that Madi was with her.

And he hesitated.

 _Had she told Madi about them? Would she even have had time? Should he maybe...hold back until Clarke said it was okay for him to try to connect with the girl?_

Bellamy was so engrossed in his dilemma that he wasn't even aware that someone had approached him.

" _Hiya_ , Bellamy," Echo said. "So I see you and Clarke have worked everything out."

In Echo's world, subtlety had never been highly prized.

"Hey, Echo. Uh... what makes you say that?"

She shrugged. "I was trained to read body language. Your attention has always been on Clarke whenever she was around, but you have never been so open about it as you are today."

Bellamy found himself flushing. _Was he really that easy to read, or was it only Echo with her special spy training?_

"Or am I wrong?" she asked, with the air of someone who couldn't imagine that she would ever be wrong.

"No," he admitted, a tiny bit flustered at having become so transparent, and yet completely uninterested in denying something that made him so happy. "You're not wrong. It's...we..."

"No, Bellamy," she said kindly, "you do not have to explain to me. It is enough that the sadness in your eyes has finally been banished. This time, I hope, forever."

Bellamy shrugged and smiled a little sheepishly, turning back to find Clarke staring at them from across the large hallway.

"Ah, she sees us," Echo said, nodding pleasantly to Clarke.

Madi caught his eye, giving him a shy wave before running off, while Clarke made her way over to him.

"Hi," she said, eyeing him a little uncertainly.

His felt his pulse leap just from the sound of her voice. As he watched her mouth move, all Bellamy could think about was how much he wanted to kiss her. If only they hadn't been standing outside the mess hall with a dozen other people around.

"Hi," he said instead, smiling. "Did you get some sleep?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "a little. So, uh, what did Echo want?"

"What?" Only then did he notice that Echo was no longer standing there.

"Uh, she just...she was asking about you. About...you and me."

"You told her?" Clarke's look was unreadable.

He shrugged. "I didn't have to. She said she could tell just by looking at me that you and I had found a way to... work things out."

"But... how did she even know we had anything to work out?"

Bellamy glanced around at the hubbub that surrounded them, then grabbed her hand and quickly moved them down the hallway and around the corner to a quieter spot. There were still a few people milling about, of course. Some of their neighbors in this new community they were all building together. But it was a lot more private than the busy corridor outside the mess hall.

He bent close, stroking his thumb softly across the palm of her hand, the one he'd never let go of.

"Everyone knew, Clarke," he said quietly. "Or I guess maybe... everyone but you."

"Yeah," she flushed a little, "that's what Madi said when I told her this morning."

Bellamy was surprised. "Madi said she knew we had things to work out?"

Clarke shook her head as her flush deepened. "She said she wondered what took me so long to figure it out."

Bellamy hooted. "I knew I liked that kid."

"Yeah," Clarke said, grinning. "There are no flies on Madi."

Then her face changed, her smile morphing abruptly into an uncertain frown. "But what about Echo? She didn't... mind?"

Bellamy shook his head at the implications of her question, but he didn't pretend to misunderstand.

"Echo is a friend, Clarke. Maybe even family. But she and I...it was never that way."

Clarke nodded, and he thought she might have looked the tiniest bit relieved.

"So...what happens now, Bellamy?" she asked, looking thoughtful. "Echo doesn't mind, and Madi was just waiting for me to figure it out. And my mother..."

"You told your mother?" His brows rose in surprise.

"...just rolled her eyes, and then Kane...

" _Kane?"_

"...gave me a hug. And there don't seem to be any wars or catastrophic events on the horizon. So...what should we do now?"

Bellamy's smile had been growing all through this recital of their unexpectedly carefree circumstances. When she finished, he bent to kiss her softly.

 _Passersby be damned._

And then he answered her question.

"We live, Clarke. We have a life together. Hasn't that always been the point?"


End file.
